


Permanent Fixtures

by sarcasmandirony



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Animal Shelters, Anxiety Attacks, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dogs, Grief/Mourning, Hawaiian Pizza - Freeform, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV First Person, Post-Good Robert Ending, Pre-Slash, White Zinfandel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-11 15:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11717037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasmandirony/pseuds/sarcasmandirony
Summary: Amanda goes to college. Dadsona gets a dog. Robert takes a misstep in his journey to self-improvement. The kids come home for the holidays.Four loosely related ficlets in which Dadsona (Milo) and Robert become permanent fixtures in each other's lives.





	1. Amanda goes to College

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy!

I’m carrying a box containing a few of Amanda’s favorite books to Robert’s red pickup truck. “Amanda, you could help, you know.”

“Why?” She asks, texting on her phone. “You and Robert are already doing an excellent job!”

Robert chuckles. “Smart kid.”

“Well, that may be true, but we’d do an even greater job with your help,” I tell her. “C’mon, Panda, I woke up early for you.”

“Alright. Fine. You win,” Amanda says, pocketing her phone.

Standing up, she grabs a trolley bag from the porch and pulls it toward the pickup truck, a messenger bag covered with stickers strapped across her shoulder.

“Can I take a break now that Amanda’s helping?” Robert asks.

“You can, after we have Amanda’s luggage on the pickup truck,” I say, approaching a box with ‘bookcase’ scrawled across it in Amanda’s neat handwriting.

“My dad drives a hard bargain, doesn’t he?” Amanda asks.

“Yeah, he does. Perhaps we can form a union,” Robert says.

“Robert, you agreed to help,” I remind him. “And speaking of which, can you help me with this?”

“Only if we go and get ice cream on the way over,” Robert says.

“That’s an excellent idea!” Amanda says, excited. “We could go to that place with the M&Ms’ topping!”

“And the chocolate chips!” Robert adds.

They turn to me with hopeful smiles on their faces.

“Alright, we can get ice cream on the way to Amanda’s college,” I say, cleaning sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.

It’s a hot, summer day, anyway, the perfect weather for an ice cream.

Robert is wearing a red tank top that shows off his muscles and collarbone, shiny with sweat, as well as a pair of jean shorts. He’s wearing his trademark sunglasses, and he has an earring and a piercing on his left ear, giving him back the edge lost by the absence of his leather jacket. Amanda is wearing a white tank top, her dad’s jacket tied around her waist.

I remember the day Amanda first started wearing that jacket. It was a few months after my husband passed away when I finally decided it was time to go through his things. It was something I had been delaying, and Amanda helped me through it. It was sad for the both of us, but the pain became easier to bear by the simple fact that we were doing it together, that we had someone there to share the memories kept in everyday items – there were many tears that day, as well as laughter.

One of those items was this jacket – my husband’s jacket. He always wore it whenever he could.

Amanda asked me that day if she could keep it and I agreed. She has worn it every day ever since. I’ll miss that jacket, and I’ll miss my daughter.

Robert and Amanda high five at the promise of ice cream.

“Now, can you come and help?” I ask.

“It’ll be my pleasure,” Robert says.

Together, Robert and I carry the massive cardboard box towards the pickup truck while Amanda brings over a small box containing various lightweight knick-knacks.

Robert and I get back our breaths once everything’s safely in the pickup truck, our chests heaving. Amanda, by comparison, looks fresh as a cute Panda.

“I always thought you’d have more stamina,” I tell Robert.

Robert, hands on his knees, looks up at me and takes off his sunglasses for the unique apparent purpose of arching a suggestive eyebrow at me.

“Robert, are you making this dirty?” I ask.

“Dad, what you said was dirty to start with,” Amanda says, sprawled on the grass.

“See, Amanda agrees with me,” Robert says, helping her up.

Amanda takes Robert’s hand and stands back up, her black leggings smudged green on her knees and thighs. “Thanks. And I really appreciate you helping my dad and me carry all this stuff. We would’ve taken ages doing it all by ourselves.”

“That’s because I would’ve had to do it alone,” I say, hands on my hips, a stern look on my face.

Amanda chuckles. “Anyway, I’d like to thank you for driving us to the university as well. And for helping my dad carry all this stuff up the stairs to my dorm room.”

“Amanda, hush! I’ve been trying to forget about that part!”

“Sorry, dad, but it’s better that you start preparing yourself now. You know, mentally.” Amanda says, tapping her temple.

“Hey, Milo, relax! We could reward ourselves with diner food on the ride back,” Robert says, draping an arm around my shoulder.

“I do like eating things I didn’t have to prepare myself,” I consider. “Alright, it’s a deal!”

“And it’s also your treat!” Robert says.

“Wait, what?” I ask.

“C’mon, Milo, I’m already doing most of the heavy lifting, and I’m doing it for free! And she’s your daughter, you know?”

“I _am_ your daughter,” Amanda says.

I cross my arms. “Alright, fine.”

With that settled, we get inside the pickup truck. Amanda gets on the back while I ride on the front by Robert’s side.

Robert sits like a truck driver; his seat pushed all the way back. His sunglasses are on his eyes, his hand on the wheel, his arm draping from the window, and his other hand wrapped around the gear shift. His legs are wide open, inches away from mine, and I’m more than a little aware of the parking brake between us.

During the drive, Robert and I listen to Tom Waits in quiet companionship while Amanda plugs in her headphones, listening to a playlist on her iPhone.

In the ice cream shop, Amanda orders a vanilla, strawberry, and banana ice cream covered in M&Ms and with a cherry on top. She takes a picture as soon as it gets to the table and puts it on Instagram before taking her first spoonful.

“You’re really showing that ice cream who’s boss, Amanda,” Robert says, amused by how fast she’s eating. He’s having a mint chocolate chip and rose petal combo.

“You better slow down, sweetie,” I warn her around a mouthful of coffee flavored ice cream with whipped cream and caramel topping.

“I’ll do what I want!” Amanda grumbles, eating ice cream like there’s no tomorrow.

Amanda eats more ice cream than she can handle and ends up with a tummy ache for the remainder of the drive.

“Why would the ice cream betray me?” She moans from the backseat, her hands on her belly, ‘woe is me’ in her voice.

We’ve been back on the road for a while when I notice the chocolate chip on the corner of Robert’s lips.

“Robert, you have something on your cheek,” I say with a chuckle, brushing the small chocolate chip away with my finger before I can think better of it.

“What was it?” Robert asks, glancing at my hand on the dimple of his cheek. My palm lingers on his jawline, my fingers caressing his stubble.

“Uh,” I say, realizing I have had my hand on his face for far too long. “It was only a tiny chocolate chip,” I tell him, settling my hand back on my lap where it can no longer embarrass me.

An incredibly awkward silence stretches between us before Robert turns on the radio and looks at the road ahead.

Robert slides down the window and lights a cigarette, letting in the warm summer breeze, his hair and the fabric of his tank top blowing in the wind.

On the back of the pickup truck, Amanda texts on her phone.

“Do you have a boyfriend you’re not telling me about, Panda?” I ask her.

“As if, dad!” She says. “After the way things ended up with Noah, I’m taking a break from guys for a while.”

“Then who are you texting?”

“My new roommate Robyn. She’s a freshman like me, and she’s taking Photography like me, _and,_ most surprising of all, she loves Ice Road Ghost Truckers, like me!”

“What do you mean, surprisingly?” Robert asks, affronted.

“That’s an amazing show!” I say.

“The best,” Robert agrees. “And I’ll fight anyone who disagrees.”

 “Ahem,” Amanda clears her throat. “According to Robyn, our room is a little bit smaller than we initially thought. She’s been sending me pictures.” Amanda’s phone pings with a new text. “Eww, my mattress has a yellow stain on it. Good thing we brought my old one.”

“Thank fuck it’s not a red stain, or you’d have to worry about ghosts on top of getting good grades,” Robert says.

“I hope there are at least _some_ ghosts on campus,” Amanda says.

Robert looks at her through the rearview mirror. “Is that an invitation for me to drag your dad up here for a ghost hunt team-up?”

“No.” Amanda shakes her head. “Dads on campus are beyond embarrassing.”

I look back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Except when they’re helping their very grateful daughters move into their new dorm rooms. Thanks, dad, by the way. That’s incredibly sweet of you.”

“Nice save, kiddo,” Robert chuckles.

“Well, I’m glad you’re excited, Panda,” I say, patting her knee.

“Excited is an understatement! We’re gonna be best friends, I can already tell!” She says, her phone chiming yet again.

We arrive at Amanda’s college a little past noon and find Amanda’s dorm room a short while later.

There are already a few kids in hipster attire wandering around, messenger bags strapped across their shoulders and black rimmed glasses on their eyes.

“Now how are we gonna carry this all the way to your dorm?” I ask as we gather on the sidewalk, facing the giant pile of luggage.

Amanda smiles at me. “Some way that doesn’t involve me helping.”

I cross my arms above my chest. “Very funny, Amanda.”

“I have an idea,” Robert tells me. “I’ll be right back.”

Cracking his knuckles, Robert heads after two jock-looking guys with a dangerous smile on his lips, the glint of his sharp teeth a veiled threat.

After a few short words, he somehow convinces the two guys to carry most of Amanda’s things up to her dorm room.

“You know, I kinda want to be like Robert when I grow up,” Amanda reveals as we watch Robert order the two guys around, Amanda’s massive bookcase between their hands. “The best parts of him, you know? He’s so intimidating and kind, and he always tries his hardest. I’d love to be like that, one day.”

“Well, you could help me carry some of these things. That would help,”

“Oh, look at the time. I have to go and meet Robyn now. She’s been waiting for me in our room for ages. I’d love to stay and help, but it’d be rude to keep her waiting any longer. See ya in a sec, dad, bye!” Amanda says, running towards the student building with a wave of her hand.

I chuckle and shake my head, picking up a few of the lighter boxes.

Amanda is talking with Robyn’s parents when I arrive at her floor, already winning them over with her charm. Robyn’s moms and I exchange a few words about kids leaving their nest and then they're off.

Amanda and Robyn get along like they’re lifelong friends reunited after many years, which comes as little surprise.

Amanda always was better than me at social events.

The two jocks hang around the room for a while, chatting animatedly with the girls, and even going as far as flirting, before Robert chases them away like an overprotective dad.

I feel at once amused and relieved.

All the flirting was starting to make me feel a little awkward. Amanda appears to be at once annoyed, impressed and entertained by Robert’s protectiveness.

After the jocks have been dealt with, Robert and I set up Amanda’s bookcase while she decides which pictures to display on the small wall space. There are a lot of panda, dog and butterfly prints to choose between. A picture of Alex and Amanda back when she was a baby, as well as a photo of Amanda, all grown up, with me beside her, take a prominent place on top of the bookshelf.

Once the photos are on the walls, the books are on the bookshelf, and the mattress has been changed, Amanda follows Robert and me back to the pickup truck, promising Robyn to be back later.

“What did you think of your roommate, Amanda?” I ask her.

“Oh, she’s alright,” Amanda says, a little less enthusiastic than before. “It’s just, how can she ship Flynn and Callum? They’re practically brothers!”

I chuckle, patting her on the head.

“Be nice to your room mate, Amanda,” I tell her.

“I am always nice,” She says, shooing my hand away and smoothing her hair.

Robert clears his throat. “Uh, Amanda, before your dad and I leave, I’d like to have a word with you, if that’s okay,” He asks bashfully.

“Of course,” Amanda and I say at once.

I watch as Robert and Amanda stand below the shade of a wide beech tree. When Robert starts talking, I can tell Amanda’s getting curious, as well as excited. After setting an appropriate suspenseful atmosphere, Robert takes a knife from the pocket of his shorts. Attached to the small knife by a silver chain is a tiny wooden panda. Amanda regards the knife, fascinated, and she listens to Robert, mesmerized, as he teaches her the Small family tradition of threatening people convincingly enough as to scare them away.

Robert carefully hands Amanda the small pocket knife, like a precious gift, and I realize that he might’ve had more personal reasons for coming on this little trip. Going to college is a significant milestone in a person’s life nowadays, a milestone Robert missed out on with his own daughter. One of the many milestones he missed out on, in fact.

Amanda pockets the knife and gives Robert a tight hug. After a look of surprise on his face, Robert hugs her back.

They let go a little while after and join me back on the sidewalk.

“I have to go now, dad. Robyn’s going to show me around campus,” Amanda says, giving Robert and me each a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye, Dad, love you! And bye, Robert! Thanks for everything!”

“Bye, Manda-Panda! Have fun! And be careful!” I wave, watching her go back inside the student building, heading towards her new life.

I glance at Robert. His skin is less pale these days now that he has started sleeping more and drinking less, browner and healthier than before. He was already a fit guy when I first met him, but his muscles are meatier now that he has begun eating more frequently. He’s so vibrant and colorful today, with the sun reflecting on his sunglasses and sweat pooling on his forehead and collarbone – it’s like staring at the sun, at a brighter version of Robert. Robert, the classic rock edition. Robert, with the volume turned up.

I’m reminded of Amanda’s words: _I kinda want to be like Robert when I grow up._

“What?” Robert asks with an arched eyebrow, catching me staring.

“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.

He lets it go, and we walk back towards the red pickup truck.

“You know, I’m famished,” Robert says, his hands cupped behind his neck. My eyes catch on the hair on his armpits and the muscles on his forearms and the tempting, tantalizing arch of his collarbone. “Shall we go have that diner food you promised me when we left the cul-de-sac this morning?”

_The best parts of him, you know_ ; my daughter said.

I smile and think: _I do know._

“Let’s,” I say. 

 

* * *

 

While we look around for a diner, a few cute stickers on the pickups’ dashboard catch my attention – there’s one of a dinosaur, a pineapple, a star, and an elephant.

“Are these yours?” I ask, tapping the dinosaur.

“What?” Robert asks “Oh,” He says, his eyes sparkling with happiness and nostalgia upon seeing the stickers. “Those were Val’s, back when she was yea high. She loved stickers. She still does. And this baby here was her favorite playground in the whole world,” Robert gives an affectionate pat at the dashboard. “And I was her favorite playmate in the world. We were kinda poor back then, so it was about the only thing she had to play with. She never complained, though, that kid. It was like this truck was the best toy she could ever have wished for; like she was the happiest girl on the planet. It made me want to give her the world. What a fool I was. I ended up taking the only thing that actually mattered.”

We ride in silence for a while after that; Tom Waits filling in the quiet space between us.

“Thank you for letting me come today,” Robert says in a deep voice (deeper than usual) like he’s trying his hardest not to cry.

I glance at him. He has his sunglasses on. His lips are set in a tight line, and his eyebrows are set in a deep frown.  

I think this is the closest Robert’s ever gonna let me get to how much it meant to him to share this moment with my daughter and me.

“Hey, my back’s the one who should be thanking you,” I say.

Robert nods and increases the radio’s volume.

I feel like touching his face and tracing the stubble on his jaw and caressing the graying hair at his temples. However, that seems too intimate. Something a boyfriend would do, rather than a friend.

I settle on a middle ground – a compromise.

Robert’s hand is on the wheel, his other one on the gear shift.

Slowly and carefully, like I’m reaching towards a dangerous lion, I place my hand on top of his. If Robert wants to be left alone, he can pull his hand away or ask me what the heck I’m doing. If that happens, I’ll pretend it was an accident. Things will get awkward, sure, but that’s already how 99% of my social interactions are anyway, so no big deal.

Robert’s hand feels soft and warm below mine, and I prepare for the blowback

One second goes by, and we’re still touching hands. And then two seconds go by; seconds become minutes. When Robert changes gears, he does it smoothly, allowing my hand to follow the motion.

We keep driving, Tom Waits playing on the radio, the wind playing with our hair, our hands playing with each other.

 

* * *

 

At the diner, I order a frittata and a cup of coffee, because you can never have too much coffee. Robert gets a greasy burger and a bag of extra crispy fries, because he likes things that are bad for him.

Around us, people talk enthusiastically in brightly colored booths. Cooks howler orders inside the kitchen, 80s music plays from loud speakers, and high heels tap on the bright linoleum floor while waitresses deliver delicious slices of heaven.

Robert has his sunglasses hooked in his red tank top, his mouth full of fries.

“This was just what I needed,” He says around a moan.

I chuckle. “Oh my God, best food ever!”

Nothing beats diner food, especially after a day of carrying furniture around, especially if the food was made by someone else.

Taking a sip from my coffee, I glance at the TV.

The diner is too loud to hear anything the reporter on TV is saying, what with the buzz of conversation and the clatter of silverware. The headline is about a movie premiering next week. Before I can look away, however, the story changes and the new headline catches my eye, and I feel like a chicken caught between a wolf’s teeth.

 

_ Highway Accident _

High-speed car-crash results in double casualties.

 

My eyes stay on the headline, made hostage by those simple letters, made catastrophic by their particular arrangement.

For a few seconds, it’s like I’ve gone back in time: I’m on the phone with a police officer, my world shattering around me. I’m on a morgue, my life scattered in pieces at my feet. I’m in a funeral, my world gone.

The diner becomes a distant place in my mind, little more than a distracting ringing in my ear. I feel my skin tingling, crawling with fear. I feel my heart beating in my chest, too loud in my ears. I wonder if anyone else can hear it. I bet they can – I bet everyone in the diner can hear it. I can feel their eyes on me; I can imagine what they’re thinking…

Steady fingers tighten themselves around my hand, distracting me from the TV and my thoughts, a lifeline to here and now.

I look at my hand on top of the table, and I look at Robert’s hand, wrapped around mine. The diner comes back into focus in waves. Soon I can hear the conversations, followed by the sound of heels navigating the labyrinth of tables and booths, and then the music coming from the speakers and the purring of cars driving on the street, their sound muffled by the diner’s walls.

My entire world was seconds away from coming undone, and thankfully Robert was the only one that noticed.

Thankfully, Robert was here.

Robert, whose hand is still holding mine, his thumb drawing calming circles on my skin, his eyes looking at me, searching my face.

“Alright?” Robert asks with worry in his voice.

I can feel tears in my eyes, my cheeks wet with them. “I am now,” I say, and the knowledge that Robert’s wife, Marilyn, died in the same way my husband did suddenly dawns on me. I turn my hand around and entwine my fingers with his.

“Sometimes it all comes rushing back, doesn’t it?” Robert asks.

“It does,” I agree. “And usually when you least expect it.”

“In those moments, it doesn’t matter how long it has been. In those moments, it seems like it happened only yesterday.”

“Like a sucker punch,” I say. 

“Or a sucker knife.”

I chuckle. Robert’s attempt at humor doesn’t make the sorrow that overwhelmed me a few seconds ago disappear entirely, but it adds a layer to it. It makes it seem less overwhelming, more manageable. It makes it feel like I can breathe.

“You know, being all alone in that big house of yours won’t be easy,” Robert says.

“I know,”

My worries regarding Amanda going away to college were only in part due to my concern for her well-being.  I was also worried about myself, alone with only my thoughts for company.  

“I could, –” Robert says, looking away bashfully, a blush on his cheeks. His finger taps at my skin timidly. “I could go by your house from time to time and check on how you’re doing. If you want me to, that is.”

“I’d love that,” I say. “And I guess it’d only be polite if I returned the favor.”

Robert’s eyes meet mine, his lips widening in the most beautiful and dazzling smile I’ve ever seen. He looks like a kid in a toy store, never mind all the yellow in his teeth.

“It’s a promise,” He says, tightening his hold on my hand before letting go.

We eat in silence for a while, our feet touching under the table.

“You know, maybe I could get a dog,” I say. “Amanda did say she wanted one. And maybe then she’d come visit me more often.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Robert says. “Hit me up when you feel like it. I know a place where you could get a dog real cheap.”

Robert only makes it sound a little illegal – a feat all on its own.

 

TBC


	2. Sally comes Home

“This is getting a little insane,” I say, regarding my kitchen sink with apprehension. The sink is filled with dishes, my kitchen cabinets practically empty.

“Yeah, this place is getting messier than my house, and that’s saying something. I’ll help you after we come back!” Robert promises, shrugging into his leather jacket.

“You will?” I ask, surprised.

“Maybe,” Robert says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and hauling me towards his pickup truck.

Arriving at Robert’s driveway, we pick up Betsy from his place, who’ll be joining us on our ride. She takes the seat by Robert’s side while I get in the back.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing at the Garlic bulbs weaved in the shape of a necklace that dangle from the rearview mirror.

“That’s a garlic garland,” Robert says, taking a seat behind the wheel.

“Oh,” I say. “And why do you have a garlic garland in the car?”

“You’ll see,” Robert says with a mischievous smile, driving from the cul-de-sac.

Tom Waits plays on the radio. Chilly, autumn air breezes in from the open window to Betsy’s immense satisfaction.

Robert lays his hand in the space between the two front seats, his palm facing up, like an invitation. I reach forward with my own hand, taking his in mine. I’ve become familiar with the touch of Robert’s fingers on my skin, lingering on my shoulders whenever he greets me or caressing my waist when he’s moving around.

I look at his hand in mine – his light brown and scarred, mine milky white and smooth. It feels a little bit like cheating, holding hands. The good kind of cheating, like eating a slice of cake before midday, or drinking coffee after midnight.

“Have you heard from Amanda?” Robert asks me.

“Yeah. She’s been calling me once a week,” I say, a compromise made between Amanda wanting more independence, and me being concerned about her safety. “She’s been having a blast.”

“I bet,” Robert says. “I never went to college, but I take it it’s like high school, only with more weed and booze and parties.”

“Nevermind classes.”

“Hell yeah!” Robert says. “Although, maybe Amanda shouldn’t behave as I did. Some of my actions were a bit regrettable, and my grades were crappy.”

“Well, I’m glad she’s having fun. And I trust her to be responsible,” I say, looking around. The leaves on the trees are colored brown and yellow and red, Fall starting to settle in. “Hey, where are we going?”

“We’re gonna get you a dog,” Robert says.

Betsy barks as we pass a squirrel chilling on a tree.

“That I know, Robert. I’m wondering why we’re heading this way,” I say. “The mall is the other way around.”

“Why would we be going to the mall?” Robert asks.

“To get a dog,” I say, afraid I’m missing something. “The mall has a pet shop, right?” I ask. I’ve only ever been to their fast food chains, buying everything else online.

“Why would you get a dog at the mall when the animal shelter has so many dogs and puppies to choose from, wanting and waiting to be loved?” He asks, scratching at Betsy’s head. “That’s where I got Betsy. She’d been left at the side of the road one summer, abandoned like she was worthless.”

Betsy yaps at Robert happily, sniffing the air.

“She’s lucky to have you,” I tell him, and mean it.

He looks at me with a big smile on his lips. “And I’m lucky to have her. She’s changed my life,” Robert pats Betsy’s side, turning back to the road. “And now we’re gonna change yours!”

“To the animal shelter!” I say, throwing my fist in the air.

Betsy barks in agreement.

 

* * *

 

“Why are you bringing that with you?” I ask as we head towards the animal shelter.

“I like the smell of garlic,” Robert says, the garlic garland hanging around his neck, Betsy trotting happily beside him.

We step inside the animal shelter and are greeted by Mary’s familiar sight.

“Robert, it’s so good to see you,” Mary says, greeting Robert with a kiss on each cheek and paying little attention to the garlic garland around his neck. “And you brought the new guy.”

“Mary, we’ve known each other for months,” I remind her.

Mary shrugs, a devil may care smile on her blood red lips. “I have other things on my mind,” She says, kneeling down and petting Betsy. “Hello, girl. What brings you here?”

“Milo’s getting a dog,” Robert answers in Betsy’s behalf.

“Well,” Mary gives me a once over. “He certainly has come to the right place.”

“Wait,” I say, looking between Robert and Mary, a realization dawning on me. “You work here?”

Mary lifts her eyebrows. “Yeah, I work here. Maybe if you spent more time with Damien, you’d know that.”

Robert looks around the lobby. “Speaking of Damien, where is he?”

“Enjoying his day off,” Mary says, flipping her hair over her shoulder and turning around. I catch a glimpse of a smirk on the corner of her lips. “Shall we?” She asks, leading the way.

Robert slams the garlic garland on the reception desk. “Why did I even bring this, then?” He says, going after Mary with his eyebrows furrowed in a scowl.

“Once a cryptid hunter, always a cryptid hunter, right Betsy?” I ask her with a chuckle.

Mary leads us towards a long hallway with cages on each side.

“I have the perfect dog for you right here,” Mary says, tapping the cage by her side.

I approach it excitedly and, before I know it, a Maltese with short hair throws itself at the bars, barking and showing me its sharp, threatening teeth.

I jump back with a yelp, startled.

Mary and Robert start laughing.

“Mary, that was priceless,” Robert says, draping his elbow on Mary’s shoulder and shaking with laughter. “Milo, you should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Very funny, you two,” I say, my arms crossed over my chest.

“That’s Sweetie Bell,” Mary says, meaning the Mean Maltese. “We’re still rehabilitating her. And she’d be too much for you, obviously. I think we better find you a more kid-friendly choice.”

“Hey!”

Robert approaches the bars and, with a snap of his fingers and a tap of his palm on the floor, Sweetie Bell rolls over, her tongue peeking from her mouth. “Who’s a good girl?” He asks, petting her belly.

“Wow,” I say, in awe, kneeling down beside him. “How did you do that?”

Robert shrugs. “I have a way with dogs. Go on, pet her.”

I carefully reach my hand towards Sweetie Bell’s belly. She lets me touch her, her eyes closing as I scratch at her tummy. It’s like she’s an entirely different dog.

“Shall we keep looking?” Mary asks.

“Let’s,” Robert says, standing up. “Or Sweetie Bell will make a chew toy out of Milo.”

Sweetie Bell starts growling as soon as Robert turns around.

I get up and quickly follow after him.

It seems like every dog in the animal shelter comes to greet us as we pass by, their ears up, their tongues lolling, and their cute paws dangling from the bars.

“They’re all so cute,” I say, my heart melting like honey inside my chest. “I wanna take them home. All of them.”

“Taking care of a puppy isn’t only belly rubs and playing catch,” Mary tells me. “It can be demanding work, and it costs money.”

“I know. But how am I supposed to choose?” I ask.

“Carefully,” Mary says.

“Well, it’s less like a choice, and more like a feeling,” Robert says.

I arch my eyebrow. “And how does that work, exactly?”

Robert takes my hand in his. “Well, when you see the dog who’s right for you, you’ll feel it right here,” He says, placing my hand on my heart, his hand above my own. “It’s the same feeling I get when I listen to Tom Waits or eat a Hawaiian pizza. You just know.”

My hand feels warm and safe in Robert’s own, like coming home.

“Like falling in love?” I whisper.

“Yeah, I guess,” He says with a shrug and twirls me around, wrapping his hands around my shoulders. “Now, which of these cute puppies do you feel calling out to you?”

I look around the animal shelter at all the dogs, with their puppy dog eyes and their little paws and their wiggling tails, feeling deeply conflicted.

And then I see her, a small Labrador with a yellow fur coat and fox-red ears. One of her eyes is brown, and the other is closed, gone.

She and Betsy are smelling each other already, making each other’s acquaintance.

“This is Sally, our little pirate,” Mary says.

“What happened to her eye?” I ask, kneeling down beside Betsy, and petting the side of Sally’s muzzle.

“She lost her eye before she came to stay with us,” Mary tells me. “We rescued her from a puppy fighting ring.”

“Despicable,” Robert says with venom in his voice.

Sally licks my fingers while I pet her – a silent thank you.

Betsy barks suddenly, demanding Sally’s attention. I let Sally go and have some fun, Betsy and her smelling each other and happily wagging their tails.

“I think she’s the one,” I say, standing up, and it does feel like falling in love, but the way falling in love feels like when you have a child. Like your heart swells in an instant, and at that moment you know it will forever belong to this tiny little creature you’ve just met for the first time.

Mary opens the cage and hands Sally to me.

I take her in my arms carefully. “Hey there, girl. My name’s Milo, and you’ll be living with me from now on. What do ya think?” I ask her, and she licks my face.

Robert chuckles. “You should take that as a yes. Trust me I speak dog.”

“I believe you,” I say, kissing Sally’s temple.

Back at the reception desk, I sign all the necessary paperwork, while Betsy and Sally run around the lobby, chasing each other.

“Here’s the vet clinic’s number. I’ll call them for you and schedule an appointment for Sally. And here’s the ration she’s been eating.”

“You should buy a few toys for Sally while you’re here,” Robert tells me.

“That’d be greatly appreciated,” Mary agrees enthusiastically.

I leave the animal shelter with a pack of dog food in one hand, and a bag filled with toys in the other, Mary following behind us.

“Wait, you guys came in your truck?” She asks.

“Fuck yeah, we did,” Says Robert.

“Robert, your pickup truck has no seatbelts in the back seats,” Mary crosses her arms and looks at me. “You need a proper safety belt or a transport cage to drive with dogs inside a moving vehicle, you know.”

“Oh,” I say, smartly. “I was unaware of that.”

Mary shakes her head, patting Sally’s forehead. “Good luck, you sweet child. You’re gonna need it,” She says, before turning around. “If something happens during your drive home, I saw nothing.”

“Everything will be alright, Mary. Don’t worry!” Robert calls after her. He looks at me and winks. “Mary worries too much.”

We get inside the car. I take the seat by Robert’s side this time, Betsy going on the back and Sally riding on my lap.

“Milo, lower the window,” Robert tells me. “Let Sally experience the pleasant things life has to offer.”

I do as Robert says. Feeling the wind coming in, Sally places her tiny paws on the door and peeks outside, her red-fox ears standing curiously up.

“Hold on tight to her, Milo,” He tells me.

“I’m holding,” I say, and then we’re driving away, leaving the animal shelter behind.

Cool, Autumn air rushes inside, ruffling Sally’s yellow coat, her brown eye closing as she enjoys the pleasant breeze.

“See, she loves it!” Robert says, ruffling the fur on Sally’s head. “You little Rascal!”

“She really does,” I agree, mesmerized by this tiny little creature that already means the world to me. “What do you say about helping me install a pet door for her?”

Robert turns to me with a broad smile on his face, “It’d be my pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

I’m leaning on the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in my hand and a cookie between my fingers. Sally is sitting on the floor, looking at me while I snack.

“Sally, your food’s right there,” I say, waving my hand towards her bowl of food standing on the corner.

Sally’s eyes never leave the cookie in my hand.

I look away from her, focusing on an old photo of Amanda’s hanging on the kitchen wall. When I glance back at Sally, I find her still staring at me.

“Oh, alright,” I say, taking a new cookie from the cookie jar, splitting it in two, and giving half to Sally.

Sally carefully takes hold of the cookie between her teeth and wanders off to the corner, laying on the mat by her bowl of food.

“Milo, where you at?” Robert asks, coming in.

“In the kitchen,” I say, taking a sip from my coffee.

Robert steps into the kitchen wearing a red tank top, a pair of black cargo pants, and a tool belt. He carries a measuring tape in his hand. “Sally, there you are! You’re just who I wanted to see.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say, eating a third cookie.

“Oh, shush,” Robert tells me, kneeling by Sally’s side, and measuring her.

“Uh, what are you doing?” I ask.

“If we’re gonna get a dog sliding door for Sally, we need to know her measurements,” Robert tells me, which makes sense, now that I think about it.

After Robert’s done measuring her, he takes a notepad and a pencil from his cargo pants’ back pocket and starts writing. “So, it’s her widest part, plus two inches, which equals to – got it!”

“She’s still growing,” I remind him. “Maybe we should wait.”

“Nonsense,” Robert says, already heading outside. “When she outgrows it, we’ll simply get a new one. I’ll be right back. Bye!”

And he’s gone.

I look at Sally, licking her paws after devouring the cookie.

“Did you hear him, girl? You’re _our_ dog,” I say with a smile.

When Robert comes back a few hours later I’m lying on my sofa, Sally lying on my belly, the two of us watching an all week marathon of Ice Road Ghost Truckers.

Sally runs towards the door as soon as she hears Robert’s pickup truck arriving in the cul-de-sac.

“Oh, I’m happy to see you too,” Robert says, letting himself in and petting Sally behind her ear.  “What naughty things have you been up to since this morning, girl?”

I pause the Ice Road Ghost Truckers’ episode and get up.

“If you really wanna know, she peed all over the kitchen floor,” I say, my hands on my hips.

“Well, that’s what I’m here to fix,” Robert says, taking off his sunglasses. “Or at least I’m here to give Sally the chance to pee in the backyard. You have to discipline her more, Milo.”

“You’re the one giving Sally Eskimo kisses,” I say, my eyebrow arched.

Robert lifts an eyebrow back at me. “Come along, Sally, I think Milo needs a little love,” He says, stepping toward me with Sally in his arms.

“I’m angry with her, Robert,” I tell him, my arms crossed.

“How can you be mad at this cute little puppy face?” Robert asks me.

Sally yaps and gives my cheek a good old lick. My stern, scowling face opens into a wide smile. “Oh, alright, I forgive you,” I giggle, taking her from Robert’s arms.

“That’s right!” Robert says, sniffing the air. “Hey, what’s that you have in the oven?”

“A family sized Hawaiian pizza.”

Robert’s hand reaches for his growling stomach. “My favorite! And I totally forgot to eat breakfast this morning,” He says, looking at me with a hopeful look in his eyes. “Maybe we could eat something first?”

“Duh,” I say. “There’s a reason it’s family sized, silly.”

“And do you got anything to drink along with that sass?” Robert asks with an inquiring eyebrow.

I smile. “White Zinfandel.”

“My favorite meal time drink!” Robert says, giving a big old jump and running ahead into the kitchen.

Inside the kitchen, I look around my drawers for a cork opener while Robert takes two champagne glasses from a kitchen cabinet.

“Oh, we’re fancy today,” I tease him.

Robert takes a sip from the pink colored drink. “Treat yourself, is my new motto.”

We take the pizza out of the oven once it’s ready and Robert slices it with a knife he produces from his back pocket.

“You know what’s missing?” Robert asks while taking a bite from a pizza slice. “A little atmosphere.”

I blow on my pizza after burning my mouth. “My iPod is on the coffee table,” I tell him.

“Milo!” Robert says seconds before a familiar song starts playing on the stereo. “You have a Tom Waits folder in your iPod!”

“And I got them legally,” I say. I’ve never downloaded anything else after a particularly passionate speech from Robert.

“You’re the best friend anyone could ever ask for,” Robert tells me with an awkward hug around the pizzas in our hands.

“Thanks,” I say, nuzzling my face onto the side of his fragrant and soft. I kinda want to stay there forever. “Uh, Robert, I think you’re getting marinara sauce on my t-shirt.”

“Oh, Sorry,” Robert takes a step back, scratching at the back of his neck.

We lean against the kitchen island, eating slices of pizza, drinking White Zinfandel and listening to Tom Waits in silent camaraderie.

On the floor, Sally barks, looking at the pizza slice on Robert’s hand.

“You want a little bit of this?” Robert asks her.

Sally yaps in response.

“Robert, she already ate half a cookie today,” I tell him.

“And?” Robert asks me. “That was breakfast; this is lunch.” He says, kneeling down, and letting Sally take a big taste of his pizza slice.

Sally inhales the bite of pizza in less than two seconds.

“See, Milo, Sally liked it.”

I take a bite from my pizza slice. “I’ve always loved pizza.”

“That might be true, but I was the one who showed you the merits of pineapple on pizza. I broadened your horizons. I developed your palate,” Robert’s smile is as wide as a shark’s.

“I loved pineapple on pizza long before I met you,” I tell him.

“That’s not what you said when we went to Pete’s Pizza the first time,” Robert reminds me.

I shrug. “I like it when you get passionate about things. It’s one of the things I love about you,” I say, and Robert’s cheeks get a little browner, his eyes wandering bashfully away. 

“Are you really gonna eat the rest of that?” I ask, watching Robert’s mouth approach the remainder of the pizza slice in his hand with a scrunched-up nose.

“Yeah. I’m not gonna waste a perfectly good Hawaiian pizza,” Robert says, taking a bite of the pizza like a lion chewing off meat from a gazelle. 

The family sized Hawaiian pizza is gone in less than ten minutes, the bottle of White Zinfandel only half empty.

“I guess it’s time we set up this door,” Robert says, licking marinara sauce from his fingers and going to retrieve the pet door he left by the entryway. “I got a door a little larger than Sally is right now. That way, it can last her a bit longer.”

“Nicely done,” I congratulate him. “How much was the door, by the way?”

Robert pfffts. “Never mind that. It’s a gift from me to Sally.”

“Well, Sally certainly appreciates it, and so does my wallet.”

Since the Hawaiian pizza is gone and no one has been paying her any attention for a little while, Sally is lying in her alcove and playing with a squeaky toy.

Taking a pencil from his pocket, Robert traces the inner edge of the door’s template. My eyes, though, seem more interested in observing the way the muscles on his shoulders and forearms flex and shift and stretch as he works.

Tank tops are the worst.

“What are those for?” I ask him, meaning the four X marks Robert’s doodling on the corner of the outline.

“They’re for drilling, of course,” Robert says with a smirk like a knife’s edge, pocketing his pencil and setting aside the door’s template.

I feel only a little panicked when he takes a drill from his tool belt. “Are you sure about this?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I’ve drilled holes before,” Robert smiles enticingly, like a wolf on the prowl.

I lean back, arms crossed over my chest. “Now who’s making things dirty?”

Robert arches an eyebrow. “Still you,” He says before he starts drilling.

Sally runs upstairs, afraid of the racket that the drill is making. Smart girl.

After the holes have been drilled into the door, Robert takes a saw from his tool belt. “Saws are basically large knives,” Robert defensively explains to the knife on the kitchen counter.

“Robert, I’m feeling kinda iffy about this,” I say as the saw in his hand approaches my door.

“Iffy?” Robert asks, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

His face softens at the expression of worry on my face. “Milo, trust me. If I weren't 100% sure I was capable of doing this, I wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say. “I guess I’m a little anxious. Maybe I’ll go back to the living room and let you continue doing what you’re doing in peace.”

Robert chuckles. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”

I lay down on the couch and press play on the Ice Road Ghost Trucker’s marathon. Sally comes back downstairs and burrows herself beneath my arm.

Robert joins us half an hour later.

“Done,” He says, cleaning sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and sitting on the edge of the sofa, the hair of his arms tickling my bare feet. “For now. When our little pirate is all grown up, I’ll install a new one.”

Robert scratches at Sally’s collar, his knuckles lightly brushing my arm.

“Even after I was really annoying while you were doing me a favor?” I ask, doing my best to avoid looking at the veins on his arms, or at the shiny brown skin of his collarbone.

“Keep having Hawaiian pizza in your freezer and White Zinfandel in your fridge, and I’ll keep coming by,” Robert says, his hand patting my leg as he stands up. “Wanna see your new sliding door, Sally?”

Hearing her name, Sally immediately stands up, following after him.

“Get up, Milo! You have to teach her how to use it. You’re her owner, after all,” Robert says, taking my hand in his and pulling me towards the backyard.

After some training, Sally manages to come through the door only a little hesitantly when called.

“Never leave the door open at night, or other animals might get in,” Robert tells me as we’re ordering tacos. “Or worse, cryptids! Uh. Maybe I should get some cryptid traps, in case that happens.”

We eat tacos in front of the TV while on the couch – it’s already covered in stains anyway.

Robert shares a piece of his taco with Sally, dubbing it her dinner.

After we finish eating, we cuddle on the sofa while we watch a DVD, Robert loathing the way most channels skip the ending credits. Cuddling while watching TV is a tradition of ours that started with Movie Mondays.

We didn’t start with cuddling– that came later. Robert does everything in stages, I’ve noticed. Like he’s dipping his fingers carefully in the ocean for fear that stepping in all at once will tempt the appearance of a tsunami.

It began with Robert draping his arm on the back of his chaise lounge, or on the back of my sofa. Then his arm started hovering over my shoulders, getting lower and lower each time until I could feel the hairs of his arm tickling my neck. It was only a matter of time before his arm finally wrapped itself around my shoulders, like it had simply gotten too heavy to do anything but. Leaning on him came naturally, my cheek on his chest, breathing in his subtle perfume.

We mostly lie down nowadays, his legs tangled in mine, his arm around me, his other arm below my head, and his chin on my hair.

We fall asleep during the movie and, in the following morning, Robert makes me fast-forward the whole thing so that we can watch the ending credits.

What a dork.

 

TBC

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3\. If you want, you can follow me at my [ tumblr ](http://sarcasmandirony.tumblr.com/).


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